


Misstep

by NecroDragonArcher



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, CRY ME A RIVER, Family, I'm a sap for angst, Lance you're part of the team, Lancey Lance, Nostalgia, Pancakes, Sadness, This Is Sad, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Time is Weird, Voltron, also first story, here comes the tears, hi, please come and cry, school work gone wrong, voltron:legendary defender - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 18:47:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12064884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NecroDragonArcher/pseuds/NecroDragonArcher
Summary: [Earth, 24/10/2018 7:13]His room hadn't changed. Lance still had his plush Leftie the Shark. Nothing had changed.





	Misstep

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a creative writing task for school. I didn't get an amazing grade but I still wanted to share it. If there is any confusion, don't be afraid to ask!

[Earth, 24/10/2018 7:13]

The clock read seven-thirteen in the morning.

Wow. I’m actually awake early.

As the sun basked through the window, the room was submerged in tints of orange and yellow. The curtains with a pattern of the night sky, were fully drawn back. The bedsheets were sprawled on the floor, probably kicked off in the middle of the night. His room hadn’t changed: His favorite 80s posters, along with the many drawings his sisters happily gave him. While the walls adorned a royal blue, the floor was painted with a more beryl dye. The color had always stuck with him. At the sweet age of nine, he’d seen an aquarium for the first time and deemed it ‘his’ kingdom. Blue, navy, indigo, turquoise, the many hues seemingly dispatched in every crook and nanny possibly found in his bedchamber.

As he stretched, his feet went beyond the border of the bed. He’d had a growth spurt in the span of 7 years. He still had a lanky build despite all the excruciating training he faced. He’d thought the Garrison had been relentless. Clearly the Castle’s requirements had blown him away. Quite literally. 

How far he’d been gone.

As he thought of his family whom he hadn’t seen in so many years. How much they’d all grown. How much family time he missed. The brunette received a surge of anxiety of what they’d think of him. Would they recognize him? Would they accept him, without knowing what he’d been doing all that time? But his mind decided he was above that: Lance didn’t have time to bother about his complexions, his scars, his traumas. None of it mattered. Not when he was reunited with Leftie the Shark. His pillow slash plush toy had chased away the nightmares that scared him at nights. His mother could sleep without having her baby boy crawling up her bed because of the Boogie man.

Rising from his bed, he gave a yawn of contentment, simply glad to be back. Inhaling deeply, he caught the faint smell of sweet, sweet pancakes: Mum was seriously the best. Stumbling through his, well not exactly his when he counted five siblings, walk-in closet, Lance searched for his favorite jacket: A simple cargo jacket his father had passed down to. Yet it held so many memories. The first time he rode a bike in the backyard. Then the bike without wheelies. The big family hike, where he met an astounding number of cousins, aunts, uncles he couldn’t name. His first cat Rover, who he’d snuck in his bed at night. The time where his baby sisters were born. The first twins in two generations of the McClains. So many thoughts flowed through his mind.

It wasn’t there.

Mum must’ve washed it.

Slipping through some jeans and a beige t-shirt, Lance promptly ignored the missing jacket and opened the door. As it squeaked, he wondered when was the last time it had been greased. Probably a few years, give or take. Trudging down the hallway filled with vases and frames of ancestors ( a tradition to which his sisters always enjoyed joking about), Lance frowned ever so slightly.

Why was it so quiet?

Under one’s breath, he slipped in his blue lion slippers (his mother didn’t tolerate bare feet in the kitchen, courtesy of his father who with his wet feet, slipped on an onion peel and cracked a rib.) Internally laughing at his mother’s rant about how security was the number one priority, he slowly treaded with his cute slippers down the hallway. Her thick Spanish accent was one of the many aspects of his mother he loved. Between her flawless cuisine (goodness her chiles en nogada were a blessing sent from above), her unwavering faith in helping everyone and the simple fact that she wholeheartedly sacrificed everything she had for her family. Jesus Cristo, how he’d missed his mom.

“¡Hola Ma! The pancakes smell delicious.”

Not even sparing him a glance but smiling. “You’re lucky to be the first awake. The pancakes are nice and warm. Go fetch the sugar and syrup.” Even with her usual chipper voice, she sounded tired. Well, having to worry for six children was a feat. How she kept up with it all theses years was beyond him. However her frown lines had seemingly grown deeper. Her hair more disarrayed.

Dragging his feet, Lance reached for the cupboard right beside the microwave which was still busted. Again. Mia really needed to understand that the microwave wasn’t a dollhouse. Looking through the cupboard, Lance was surprised to see the different arrays of spices. Yet not a sign of sugar.

“Maaa! The sugar isn’t in here.”

The said-woman lifted an eyebrow ever so slightly.

“Of course not, cariño. It’s always been in the bottom drawer next to the sink! She chuckled. Don’t you remember?”

Lance hummed a reply and retrieved the sugar with an indistinguishable sense of confusion. Sitting down, the young man glanced at his mother. She hadn’t greeted him with her usual morning kiss. Then again, she was cooking and he was 24 years old. Those 7 years had always felt like a blur, but they most definitely happened. 

Lance slowly glanced around the kitchen room. The fridge was adorned with family pictures, now with drawings of his baby sisters. Stains of sauce and grease were scattered on every cantaloupe-colored wall. He spotted a few cracks there and there, showing how old the house was growing. Digging into his pancakes, his mother wordlessly glimpsed at him, offering a quick smile before turning back. He eyed the cutlery. Without realizing he’d used Marlena’s Glitter Princess fork. Or was it Unicorn dust? Definitely had to wash that before she came down for breakfast. Finishing up, almost hungrily licking the home-made syrup from his plate, the 24-year old set his plate in the washing machine and quickly rinsed his sister’s fork. 

“Ah, it smells wonderful in here.

Whipping around, Lance was greeted with his father’s face. -Pa!

"-There you are Lancey Lance. Thought you’d never come back." His father was now eyeing him up at shoulder’s length, all the while grinning. Then he set down his chemise and took a seat. He served himself a good load of pancakes silently bidding Lance to engage a conversation.

"-It’s been a while hasn’t it?" His father proclaimed through a mouthful of crepe. His father had always been a man of few words, unlike his mother. Maybe that’s why they married. Pa, as he always called him, constantly wore chemises and kept up his impeccable mustache.

"-Yeah, I really missed you guys." He smiled fondly with the same dimples he got from his father.

"-Ah cariño, we really miss you. I can’t wait for you to come back."

Lance let out a puffy snigger "-Ma, I am back. Space didn’t suck me in a black hole."

"-Son, make sure you don’t get into more trouble." His father let out a hearty chuckle. "You know, your sisters really miss braiding your hair."

"-Haha guys real funny. I didn’t know you made jokes." Lance was now grinning uncomfortably.

"-We’ll see you soon, Lancey Lance."Whispered her mother. Their voices seemed to fade and their faces contorted, while their forms shimmered.

"-Mum? Dad?... What’s happening?!" Lance was shaking uncontrollably. His eyes felt heavy, twitching while his other senses seemed to dissolve. He couldn’t hear his family anymore. Couldn’t smell the pancakes. What was happening? Was he dreaming? His primal instincts pushed him to thrash around trying to grasp hold of the scene disappearing before him. In à split second, everything faded to black.

[ Somewhere in space. Earth local time: 24/10/2025 18:47]

There was a powerful blinding light.

[Simulation 1: Experiment Lance Complete. Pod decompressing]

“Huuwah! W-what?!" A hand reached out to steady him. Lance hadn’t realised he was stumbling forward.

"-He seems disoriented." Came a low-baritone voice.

"-There is a high possibility the simulation pod brought some bad memories. Sometimes triggering." This other voice was feminine, posed and mature.

"-Hey Lance, how are you doing buddy? How’d the simulation go?" Piped in a small voice.

The brunette felt numb, separated from his body. "-Huh? Simulation? What are you talking about?"

"-We made you enter a simulation pod to create an alternate reality as if you were back on Earth while your body remained in space. Try to remember, you volunteered to test the new cryo-pods." Came Allura’s voice rather matter-factly.

"-You’re telling me this was a simulation? ” Lance’s lower lip was quivering.

The obvious ‘yes’ that came from his teammate figuratively punched him in the gut. His mind was finally connecting the dots: The missing jacket, the misplaced sugar, the wrong cutlery, the absence of his siblings, the lack of the woody home perfume. He recalled the event now. Lance had raised his hand, always one to take the risk, to experiment with the update of the cryopods meant for research. Now he understood why his teammates hadn’t objected to his volunteering. Knowing what the pod would make them relive their supposed normal lives like they hadn’t been torn apart. The war had its atrocities. It had to end, but in the instant, the bitter feeling of nostalgia and longing were overwhelming and now crushing more than ever.

How long until we go home?


End file.
